


A little fun never hurt anyone...

by camnoelgallavich, jinlin5



Series: Smut, smut, and more smut [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Chastity Device, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Gender Play, M/M, Maid Roleplay, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Top Ian Gallagher, breast pump kink, femboy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camnoelgallavich/pseuds/camnoelgallavich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinlin5/pseuds/jinlin5
Summary: Ian’s gonna lose his shit when he sees me in this, Mickey thought to himself as he held the garment in his hands. Now all he had to do was change and wait to be discovered when Ian finally got home.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Smut, smut, and more smut [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122758
Comments: 17
Kudos: 166





	A little fun never hurt anyone...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: this fic will not be for everyone! It contains elements of gender play and breast-pump play! If it makes you uncomfortable please move on and have a great day :)

[](https://ibb.co/d6YJCbz)

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and,  _ unsurprisingly _ , Mickey was horny. 

Debbie had fucked off somewhere with Sandy, Carl was out chasing his dream of belonging to Chicago’s “finest”, and Frank was nowhere to be found - for once. Mickey had spent the majority of his day off lounging on the couch in sweats and one of Ian’s tanks, which was so oversized it barely covered his chest. 

He was cranky, there was no denying it. 

Ian had been called into work even though they had planned to spend the day in bed together, and of course the fucking pushover had agreed.

At just past nine o’clock in the evening, Mickey finally got fed up with idly playing with himself, and he knew he had to switch things up. Ian had texted that he’d be home within half an hour, and Mickey was just too impatient to wait that long to begin their near nightly ritual. 

He stretched out his stocky body and forced himself up from the couch, retreating to their bedroom to start his preparations. He had been waiting for the right moment to reveal his little surprise to Ian and it felt like the perfect night for it. Mickey had been craving some action, and having a little fun with his husband would just about do the trick. 

As soon as he made it into their room, Mickey got down on his hands and knees and pulled out the cardboard box from under the bed, the very one they used to store their obnoxiously large collection of sex toys. Unbeknownst to his husband, Mickey had ordered a few new things and the packages had only arrived the day before. He’d placed his new additions into the box for Ian to find, which hadn’t really gone as planned. His husband had been so busy rushing to get ready for work, that they hadn’t had time for any morning fun, which had no doubt contributed to Mickey’s bad mood. 

_ Ian’s gonna lose his shit when he sees me in this _ , Mickey thought to himself as he held the garment in his hands. Now all he had to do was change and wait to be discovered when Ian finally got home. 

*

Ian, for his part, had never felt like more of a sucker for taking the bait, and essentially ruining one of his only days off that week. When he got into work, Ruben - the asshole who he was supposed to be covering for - ended up showing for his shift anyway. Scheduling conflict, apparently. Ian had agreed to work a few hours, mostly filing paperwork, and he had sent Mickey a text as soon as he knew he was in the clear to head home, factoring in the travel time to appease the impatient little shit waiting for him.

When he walked through the front door, Ian had been expecting to find Mickey lounging exactly where he’d left him. Yet, with no sight of a robed Mickey stretched across the sofa or ransacking the fridge, Ian decided to continue his search, sprinting up the steps two at a time and heading towards their bedroom. 

“I swear to  _ God _ , you better be in here, Mick. That ass is gonna be my reward for running all the way downtow-...” Ian trailed off, after sliding back the folding door to their room, freezing in shock. 

Mickey sat on the edge of the bed, and he had to admit he felt more than a little bit ridiculous. His face flushed bright red when Ian's breath caught in his throat upon seeing him, and Mickey took a second to chew himself out for even coming up with the idea, let alone going through with it. He and Ian had tried so many kinky things over the years, and so he had simply wanted to shake things up a little. However, given Ian’s shocked expression, Mickey was sure that he was about to get absolutely  _ destroyed  _ \- and not in the way he had been hoping.

Ian was struggling to form a single coherent thought, but all he could conjure up amounted to nothing more than the hiss of white noise. There was his husband, sitting there in what looked to be a whorish version of a tiny maid’s outfit (yes a fucking  _ maid _ ), complete with a ruffled black skirt, white apron, thigh high socks, secured in place by lacy garters, capped off by a pair of black hooker heels. Each item was frilly as all fuck, and it was having an  _ effect _ on Ian, one that he clearly hadn’t anticipated. 

Mickey licked his lips pensively. “Hey,” He hummed. Resigning himself to the humiliation of it all. 

At the sound of Mickey’s voice, Ian snapped to attention, and all the pieces clicked nicely into place. “Fuckin’ finally, the slut I ordered decided to show her face.” Ian checked his watch obnoxiously, as if  _ he’d _ been the one waiting, and not the other way around. He was still a little shocked, scanning over the details of the costume. Even still, it wasn’t difficult to guest what his husband had been shooting for, and slipping into a dominant headspace had been too easy for Ian to resist. Ian couldn’t wait to unwrap the little gift in front of him, and he was starting to think that his husband might be more creative than he had originally thought. 

Mickey was a little taken aback at the response, but he soon recovered, feeling his cock grow stiffer. It sat inside of a small chastity within the tight satin panties that he had squeezed into just for the occasion. He was sure he’d hurt himself as he forced his cock into the pink plastic sex toy, but he’d already been burned with candlewax during one of their previous  _ sessions _ . He had developed a pretty high threshold for pain, and he couldn’t think of anything he wasn’t willing to try at least once. He was pleased to see that Ian was on the same page as he was - they typically were within the confines of the bedroom, but there was always a chance of miscommunication. 

“At your service,  _ sir _ .” Mickey practically moaned the words, from deep within his chest. He would never understand why being submissive and degraded turned him on as much as it did, but he wasn’t about to fight it either. “You have me for a few hours. Whatever you want, I can make it happen.” 

“‘Whatever I want?’” Ian repeated, heavy on the insinuation, as he took a few more steps into the room. “Well, first you’d better get to work cleaning up this mess. My husband is a fucking slob.” He stooped forward and picked up a pair of Mickey’s jeans from the floor, pinched between his thumb and finger, as if they were some sort of toxic waste.

Mickey, not yet fully immersed in sub-space, felt the urge to give Ian some shit for what he was implying, but somehow resisted temptation. “Gonna have to be more specific than that, sir…” he murmured, hoping there wasn’t too much attitude slipping into the lilt of his voice. Once he got Ian riled up like that by being a spoiled brat, it was hard to get him to ease up. Not that Mickey ever wanted him too. 

The challenging tone caused Ian to drop the pants back to the floor, stepping with authority in between Mickey’s parted legs. He reached forward and took Mickey’s chin in his palm, tilting his husband’s head upward and forcing their eyes to meet. Ian noticed that Mickey’s chin hovered at level with his belt buckle, and the prominence of their height difference sent a shiver of pleasure up Ian’s spine. 

“How’s this- I’m gonna need you to bend over backwards to clean this place up for me. I want it so clean that you could eat off the floor, and that's gonna be your test, so you better pay attention to what you’re doing, and make that shit sparkle.” He threatened, without actually intending to follow up. The threat alone was enough to get him hard. Besides, Ian knew that he was planning to distract Mickey at every opportunity anyway - there wasn’t much actual housework in the cards for his husband.

When Mickey kept his mouth shut, Ian squeezed his fingers together, gripping Mickey chin just a little tighter. “You think you can do that?” He questioned, using his free hand to grope at Mickey’s chest, searching for the nametag he was sure he had seen wink at him from the front of the uniform. Beneath the dress, Ian could feel that Mickey’s chest was covered by… a bra? Ian could only guess based on the slight padding and plush texture. Mickey’s pecs seemed much fuller and heavier than Ian remembered. In combination, the bra and skintight costume caused Mickey to look like he was sporting a small pair of tits. Before Ian could contemplate it further, he located the name tag.

“Michaela?” Ian’s voice dripped with mischief. The name tag was understandably blank, but Ian improvised, much to Mickey’s amusement.

“Call me whatever you want, sir. I’ll answer to  _ anything _ …” Mickey arched into Ian’s touch as his husband’s hand roamed across his chest. He’d been playing with his nipples all day, being particularly rough with himself, and as a result they were extra sensitive. Shortly before Ian had gotten home, Mickey had also made use of the second part of Ian’s surprise - the pump. He had used it on his pecs, causing them to swell and grow slightly, before hiding the new machine back under their bed. As Mickey had hoped, Ian was picking up on the subtle change, pawing at his chest in a way that was nearly taking his breath away. “Where d’you want me to start?” Mickey asked obediently. 

“Over the end of the bed. There’s enough dirty shit around this room for a load of laundry. I’ll show you where the washer and dryer are.” Ian smirked, eager to see how far he could actually push the whole  _ maid _ thing, and how far Mickey would be able to go before breaking. At the end of the day, Ian wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to have a clean room, and he was certain that Mickey would never back down from a challenge, given that it was his idea to begin with. 

Mickey caught on pretty easily to Ian’s game. He turned to his side, flipping onto his knees and leaning forwards hanging over the side of the bed. He knew that from that angle, with his ass facing upward, Ian could definitely see the panties and the extra large bulge where the chastity was compressing him. “Hmm, down here? Is this right, sir?” 

“Y-yeah…” Ian nodded distractedly, a little more blood rushing to his cock each time Mickey referred to him as ‘sir’. He palmed himself and sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his husband’s perfect ass encased in the lacy panties. Tilting his head to the side, Ian ducked down a little to get a better view, and noticed that Mickey’s bulge looked like it was straining the fabric a little more drastically than he had been expecting. 

Mickey couldn’t resist wiggling his ass slightly, leaning forward farther and praying to feel Ian’s hands grabbing at him sooner than later. “Jeez, there sure is a lot of shit that needs to be washed down here, not sure if I can take more than one  _ load _ at a time.” He added an extra emphasis on that word in particular, and could practically hear his husband stop breathing. 

Ian was so overwhelmed by the whole show that Mickey was putting on, that he had to close his eyes and center himself in order to regain control of his cock. The last thing he needed right now was the humiliation of jizzing his jeans during foreplay.  _ Although _ , he reasoned wickedly,  _ it would be just another thing for Mickey to clean up _ . 

When he finally opened his eyes, Ian wasted no time crawling onto the bed behind his husband and lifting Mickey’s skirt shamelessly. “Oh trust me, you’ll be taking multiple loads tonight...” He growled, bending forward and gently pressing his lips to Mickey’s left ass cheek, and grabbing a handful of the other. He really couldn’t stop himself - Ian always felt as though his husband’s ass was calling his name. 

Mickey did a surprisingly convincing job of pretending to be surprised by Ian’s forwardness. “Not sure if we should be doin’ this, sir…” He whined as Ian kissed and massaged his flesh. “Feels good… but I’m gonna lose my job if they find out.” 

“Oh, c’mon… a little fun never hurt anyone. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Ian sat back on his knees, smiling at his lover, using both hands to rub at Mickey’s skin.

“Nghhhh,” Mickey’s chastity was starting to hurt him, with how much his cock was straining against it, and the pain was only making the problem worse. It was always cyclical like that, his body aching for Ian, until his husband finally decided to end his torture. “Sir,  _ please _ . How am I supposed to say no to  _ that _ ?” 

“You’re not, princess.” Ian laughed condescendingly and grabbed Mickey’s hips, flipping him over onto his back with little resistance. Ian’s eyes grazed salaciously over the length of Mickey’s body, from the top of his head to the tips of the hooker heels he wore. Smirking down at Mickey, Ian slid his hand through the cleavage Mickey had somehow created, overflowing from the plunging neckline of the little back dress. His fingers danced over Mickey’s stomach, lower and lower, until Ian was able to slip his hand beneath the frilly skirt to cup Mickey’s crotch. It was a classically dominant move, meant to drive his husband further into submission However, the cool metal lock of the chastity against his palm momentarily threw Ian off his game. 

Pulling up the front of Mickey’s dress, Ian gaped down at the pastel pink mechanism sparkling through black lace. “ _ Holy SHIT _ …” Ian panted, his mouth dry and his voice breathless. “I… uh… woah…” He lifted the waistband of the panties and took in the now uninterrupted view - Mickey’s thick cock, stuffed into the small chastity, meant to keep him from becoming fully erect. It was an excellent touch, and Mickey’s deep commitment to the role only served to make Ian fall even deeper in love with his husband. 

Mickey bit into his bottom lip so hard he thought it would be permanently dented and swollen. He averted his gaze shyly, trying to play the part of the innocent virgin - a challenging role for him, to say the least. “I’m trying to be good, sir…” Mickey moaned. “But you’re making it so…  _ hard _ .” 

Ian ogled the locked chastity for a few more seconds before he registered the full extent of the torture Mickey was putting himself through. As soon it finished sinking in, Ian sturdied himself on the bed and gazed at Mickey with nothing but lust. He manhandled Mickey up into a seated position and then onto his lap, turned on beyond belief. Once Mickey was settled, Ian grasped the chastity in one hand and Mickey’s throat in the other. “Fuck being good. You need to be bad now. So  _ fucking bad _ .” He moaned against Mickey’s lips. 

Mickey had to admit, he was struggling to stay in character. He locked eyes with his husband, heaving warm breaths into his mouth, gliding their lips together, trying to communicate all of his needs with just one look. 

Ian crashed his lips possessively into Mickey’s, chasing his tongue and giving it a lick for good measure, before taking control and plunging his tongue deep into Mickey’s mouth. He kissed the air out of Mickey’s lungs, leaving them both panting for more. “You ready to be bad,  _ babygirl _ ?” Ian heaved when he finally pulled away, licking the wetness from Mickey’s lips.

“Please…  _ please sir _ ,” Mickey whimpered weakly. “It hurts…” His hand slipped down between them to paw at the chastity, spiraling further and further into sub space. 

“I got you.  _ Shh _ … lemme make it better. You gotta let me help you. Where’s the key, baby?” Ian murmured reassuringly, slowly lowering Mickey’s pliant body back onto the mattress. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of the lace panties and pulled them down Mickey’s thighs at a snail’s pace, revealing exactly what he was desperate to see, inch by inch. After discarding the panties onto the floor with the rest of the laundry, Ian waited with one palm outstretched for the key, as the other cupped over the plastic of the chastity. Ian knew they had owned one for a while, something Mickey had picked up years ago, but they hadn’t ever thought to use it. Until now, obviously. It was a mouthwatering sight - his husband's cock restrained in such a small space, impatient to be freed.

Mickey looked down at his own chest. “Uh… the key is inside… the  _ bra _ …” he stammered, without actually making a move to retrieve it. Back when he had been thinking straight, Mickey had dropped the key down there to add an extra fun scavenger hunt-like element to their play. At the moment, he found himself regretting it, as the whole fucking thing was only prolonging the process of getting the damn chastity off of him. 

“ _ Fuck _ I- that’s hot.” Ian blurted. He had meant to say ‘ _ fuck I love you _ ’, the words had been right on the tip of his tongue, however he was happy he changed his mind. It would have disrupted the scene, and as far as he could tell, Mickey was right where he wanted him. “Guess I gotta find it with my tongue, huh?” He smirked, shifting himself over on the bed to scoop Mickey’s upper body up into his arms, draping him over his lap. Ian placed a insistent kiss on his husband’s lips, before breaking away and diving headfirst towards Mickey’s chest. He made full use of his lips and teeth and tongue to peel back the lacy garments covering the prize - essentially motorboating Mickey in search of the key. It may not have been the most effective method, but it sure as hell was _ fun _ . 

Mickey arched his back once again, creating nearly a parallel line between the mattress and his throat. He tried to hold back laughter at Ian’s exuberance, whining and squirming and running his fingers through Ian’s hair as he rooted for the key. 

Ian dragged the front of the maid costume down to Mickey’s ribs, leaving his upper torso in nothing but the lacy black bra. He licked and sucked at the flesh along the edge of one of the bra cups, an action that soon graduated to sliding the straps from Mickey’s shoulders and slowly shifting the padded cups out of the way. He kissed each inch of newly exposed skin, open-mouthed and sloppy, exploring Mickey’s chest. As he licked and sucked on Mickey’s nipples, Ian decided there was definitely something different about Mickey’s chest - his husband’s pecs seemed slightly swollen, heavier and larger than he recalled. Whatever the fuck Mickey had done to them, it turned Ian on immensely, which was why he found himself hard as rock, poking Mickey is the back with his erection. Anything Mickey did was hot. The man was Ian’s fucking kryptonite, even dressed up in a girly maid costume.

After a few minutes of searching, devoid of success, Ian glanced up at Mickey through ginger eyelashes, pulling on one of Mickey’s nipples with his lips before he proceeded to blow a loud raspberry against it, chuckling when the surprise of it caused Mickey to flail and buck upward. “Why the fuck can’t I find it?” Ian huffed.

Mickey reigned himself in and squeezed his arms together at his sides, accentuating his chest. “Might have to take this thing off me, sir?” He suggested politely, despite how badly he wanted to reach down into the bra and retrieve the key himself.  _ Restraint _ , ultimately, was the name of the game. 

“ _ Aw _ , you wanna be let out of titty jail  _ already _ ?” Ian teased, wiggling his fingers beneath Mickey’s back to reach the little metal hooks that rested along Mickey’s spine. He didn’t wait for an answer, gently unhooking the frilly thing and lifting it off of him. Mickey readily complied, lifting his arms to let the straps slip free. Finally, Ian found the key, lodged beneath the underwire. He smiled at the welcome sight, bending forward to pick it up between his teeth. “Got it.” He hummed triumphantly, words muffled by the key.

Mickey didn’t say a word-  _ very _ unlike him. He simply reached down between them and lifted his skirt, uncovering the chastity and reminding Ian of the mission at hand. His cock felt like it was being strangled and he needed to be freed immediately. 

Ian’s eyes slid downward, and he swallowed thickly - wanting to rip the chastity off and suck Mickey’s dick just to thank him for wearing the fucking thing. He slid out from under Mickey’s hip and repositioned himself swiftly, laying flat on his stomach between Mickey’s legs so that his own calves dangled from the end of the bed. Ian spat the key out into his hand before speaking. “Ya know what? I’m thinkin’ you should keep this on while you clean,  _ slut _ . Just to make sure you stay focused.” He smirked as he lifted his head to catch Mickey’s reaction. 

“Please sir… nghh, it hurts too much…” Mickey squirmed. “You want me to promise not to cum until you say it’s okay? I can promise. I’ll be good.” He felt frantic already, wanting so badly to just  _ do something  _ to end his cock’s suffering. Mickey had never been so adamant about being good before, and it only sent more blood surging to Ian’s cock.

Ian slotted the key carefully into the lock. However, instead of turning it, he paused, stroking two fingers along Mickey’s balls and arching a suspicious eyebrow up at him. “You’ll be good for me?” He questioned. 

“Ah!” Mickey gasped and hissed at the slightest of contact, already too worked up to think clearly. “Yes! Yes sir, please! I’ll be  _ so _ good for you, you’ll see!” 

“Mmm, you’d better be.” Ian growled, turning the key and removing the lock from the chastity, before attempting to remove the plastic device itself. It took him a solid minute to figure it out, and he paused, slack-jawed in horror, when he saw the small section that had been inserted into Mickey’s tip. How Mickey could handle the pain was beyond Ian. As if to compensate for making his husband wait so long, Ian surged upward to meet Mickey’s lips as soon as the device had been discarded. 

Mickey nearly went feral the minute his cock was free and he could practically feel the blood surging down to his shaft and throbbing at his tip. Any noise that escaped him was swallowed up by Ian’s hungry mouth. He groaned as he registered the unmistakable feeling of his husband’s cock grinding down on him, between his thighs. 

Ian continued his attempt to devour Mickey whole, rolling onto his back and pulling the half-naked man on top of him. The front of Mickey’s dress was pushed so far down his arms that it flopped forward, uncovering his chest. Combined with the way Ian’s hands cradled Mickey’s ass and flipped up the ruffles, the whole thing was basically pooling at his slim waist, leaving him completely exposed. 

“I don’t care what you do- you’re keeping those heels on while you ride me, slut.” Ian panted into Mickey’s mouth, reaching between them to curl his fist gently around Mickey’s stiff cock, which was laying against his stomach. In contrast to how rough Ian was being in every other regard, his hand caressed Mickey’s cock, trying to soothe it after being all tied up. 

Mickey rocked himself down onto Ian, “Yes sir, whatever you want!” He groaned. 

“That’s what I like to hear...” Ian pushed Mickey to sit up on his lap and smacked his ass. “Now, get up, put those panties back on, and pick up all the dirty clothes in here.” He dropped Mickey onto the bed next to him, ignoring his own raging hardness in favor of making Mickey work for it. Ian rolled off of the bed and straightened up his button down, smoothing a hand through his hair to set it back into place, entirely ignoring his husband’s presence. 

Mickey whined as he climbed down from the bed, balancing on the high heels enough to step back into the tight panties. The material felt amazing pressed up against his sensitive cock, and Mickey whimpered as he wobbled around the room, bending at the waist to gather up clothes as Ian had requested. 

Ian, with his back still turned, smirked as he watched the show from the reflection in the mirror. He already knew this would be a fun little game to play every time Mickey’s uncleanliness bothered him… which was often. It was one of the things that they just had to accept about one another, and Ian knew there were plenty of things he did that drove Mickey up the wall. Incorporating cleaning into their sex-life might not be such a bad idea.

With his arms full of dirty clothes, Mickey waited near the door for further instructions. 

“Damn, I could get used to a maid service like this…” Ian groaned as he sauntered over to the doorway, sliding his hand up from Mickey’s hip to the side of his chest. He held eye contact with Mickey as he slid his fingertips over the curved outlines of his pec, leaning closer to Mickey’s lips before faking him out at the last second. 

“Follow me.” Ian straightened up and led his half-naked husband down the steps into the kitchen. 

Mickey had never been quiet for so long, but he wanted to make sure that nothing would prevent him from getting his reward in the end. If it meant playing the part of an actual maid, so be it - he knew that Ian couldn’t keep his hands to himself for long. 

Ian came to a halt at the washing machine, resting his hip against it and crossing his arms over his chest, smirking at Mickey. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.” He snapped his fingers obnoxiously. “I’m not paying you to stand around and look pretty.” Ian motioned to the machine. 

Mickey was left trying to figure out if his husband was fucking serious. He wanted to be fucked silly, not forced to do laundry. Still, he was pretty thankful to no longer have the chastity fastened around his cock and he was semi-hard just from being ordered around, so he figured he’d keep playing along. Mickey grumbled as he stepped towards the machine and let the clothing drop into the drum of the washer. 

As soon as Mickey bent over at the waist, Ian slid around the side of the machine, pushing himself up behind his husband. He feathered his lips over the side of Mickey’s neck as he hiked up the back of his dress in order to grab two fistfuls of his ass. “Feel so good, darlin’...” Ian murmured in Mickey’s ear, pulling him up to stand straight against him, letting one hand slide up to hold Mickey’s chest in his hand as the other slipped low enough to cup Mickey’s crotch. “You better hurry up and get the job done, so we can have a chance to become  _ properly _ acquainted.” He whispered huskily.

Mickey squirmed in Ian’s arms, secretly delighted by how committed his husband was to the role of  _ client _ . “Oh I’ll get the job done, sir…” Mickey hummed, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, and grinding his hips back to tease Ian’s stiff cock. “And I have a feeling we’re gonna get to know eachother  _ real _ well...”

A moan slipped from Ian’s lips as he felt his hardness slip between Mickey’s ass cheeks, reminding him once again that Mickey was equally adept at teasing him. In the back of his mind, he wondered what brought on this specific roleplay, but he knew he’d get it out of Mickey in time. There were more important things to focus on presently. Dragging Mickey’s skirt up higher, Ian pressed on the small of his back to lock his husband into position, pressed against the machine. He reciprocated the teasing motion, grinding against his ass, knowing it would drive Mickey wild. 

“Like I said, you’ve got shit to do. You’re gonna wanna get this done fast.” Ian smacked Mickey’s ass one last time, before pulling away and retreating to the dining table. He pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat in his designated spot, manspreading like nobody's business and cupping his cock through the material of his pants. For several seconds, he debated pulling his hard-on out right then and there as a source of encouragement for Mickey - or perhaps simply to ease his own suffering.

As soon Ian moved away, Mickey grunted and glanced over his shoulder.  _ Really _ ? He thought, feeling slightly frustrated.  _ I’m ready to go and this motherfucker is actually gonna make me do the laundry?  _ He looked at his husband, feeling himself up through his jeans and appearing so pleased at the discomfort he was causing Mickey.  _ Fine, better get it over with… _

Mickey reached up to the shelves above the washer, making sure to elongate his body as much as possible - rising up to the very tip of his toes - so that his skirt would shift up as well, revealing more of his ass for his audience to enjoy. He could practically hear Ian’s breathing quicken in pace, and so Mickey did his best to linger, feeling around for the laundry detergent for much longer than necessary. 

Finally, Mickey brought the bottle down and swiftly poured some into the open drum, not having nearly enough patience to bother measuring. After he returned the bottle to it’s place on the shelf, Mickey adjusted all of the appropriate dials and pressed the start button. The old washer creaked slightly before roaring to life, shaking slightly and vibrating against Mickey’s body. This gave Mickey an excellent idea. He pushed himself forward slightly, dragging the tip of his semi-erect cock along the side of the washer. He moaned aloud, caught off guard by how fucking good the vibrations felt. Mickey pushed forward again, this time a little harder, rocking against the humming washer. He cast another glance over his shoulder and made eye contact with his husband. 

“ _ Mmm _ , a-all done… sir…” Mickey whimpered.

Ian’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline as he watched Mickey grind against the washing machine. The collection of vibrators they had stored up in their room gave him a pretty vivid idea of how much Mickey was enjoying himself - leaving him feeling strangely jealous.

“Get the fuck over here then.” Ian pointed at the floor in front of his feet. “I think I see a spot of food on the floor. Be a doll and clean it up, would ya?” 

Mickey huffed, begrudgingly pushing off of the washer and traipsing to the counter to grab a cloth. As soon as he made it over to his husband, he dropped to his knees, pretending to locate the mess Ian was referring to, despite the fact that he was sure it didn’t exist. He leaned forward, washing the floor with the rag, glancing up through his eyelashes at Ian. “Did I get it, sir?” 

“Hm?” Ian hummed, entirely distracted, his eyes roving up and down the arch of Mickey’s back as his husband moved along the floor on his hands and knees. “Yeah, you got it. But there’s some more over here, I think..” He pointed at the spot on the chair between his spread thighs, just so Mickey would have to come closer. 

Mickey crawled forward slowly, swinging his hips in an exaggerated manner so that Ian would be forced to watch every inch of his body as he moved. He settled between his husband’s knees, keeping his head lowered, as he scrubbed at the nonexistent dirt. Smirking to himself, Mickey bowed his head inch by inch, until his chin was basically in Ian’s lap. His final step was to gently nuzzle the bulge in front of him, flashing a deceptively innocent glance up at his lover. 

“Hmmm, I think that’s the spot right there, sir. Isn’t it?” Mickey purred. 

“ _ Fuck _ yeah, that’s the spot.” Ian fought hard to keep his eyes from closing at the sheer pleasure of the sensation. He wrapped a large hand around the back of Mickey’s neck, holding him there for a moment and shaking his head at Mickey’s attempted look of innocence. His husband was the farthest from innocent, but he was a deceptively good actor, that was for sure. Ian held Mickey’s chin and guided him upright onto his knees before he patted his thigh. “Have a seat, you’ve earned a fuckin’ break.” 

Mickey did his best to draw himself up from his knees, practically slithering onto Ian’s lap and straddling him, spreading his thighs to trap his now fully erect cock between their stomachs. He could feel Ian’s hardness pushing into him from below, but Mickey kept his arms linked behind Ian’s neck - the last thing he wanted was to ruin the moment by touching Ian any more than he had been instructed to. When Ian got into character he often got high on the power of it all, and Mickey knew that he was liable to be particularly cruel with his punishments. Not that he minded - Mickey sincerely loved being pushed around and forced into compromising positions. In fact, nothing got him going more. 

“Thank you sir,” Mickey smiled as he leaned forward, so that his lips were barely dusting against Ian’s. “You’re so fucking good to me…”

“I really am, aren’t I?” He retorted, looking up into Mickey’s eyes before sucking his teeth. “My husband’s gonna come home and assume there’s something between us if he catches us like this.” Ian smirked blithely, his gaze roaming all over Mickey’s face, despite their close proximity. He watched Mickey’s eyelids flutter closed and his eyebrows scrunch together as he waited for a kiss that had yet to arrive. “I should probably put you back down where you belong...” Ian teased, holding Mickey by the hips and sliding him backward, just an inch or two, as if he were going to drop him altogether.

Mickey tried not to flail. Reflexively, he wrapped his arms tighter around Ian’s neck to anchor himself to his husband, unwilling to let go. “Please, sir…” He hissed. “We have… a little time. Don’t we?” 

Ian checked his watch and then glanced back up at Mickey. “A little. So what can you do for me, huh?” He arched an eyebrow at Mickey.

“Whatever you want,” Mickey spat out immediately, grinding into Ian’s lap once again, eager to please. “They say I’m  _ veryyyyy _ good at my job…” 

“Well then. You better get to work on  _ this _ .” Ian exhaled heavily, grasping Mickey’s hand and placing it on the bulge in his jeans, holding it there with his own. 

“ _ Fuck _ . Right away, sir…” Mickey moaned, inching back on Ian’s lap to give himself enough room to unbutton the jeans. He carefully pried Ian’s cock from the tight fabric, squeezing his hand around the base and practically drooling at the sight of his husband's cock, standing stiff and ready to be played with. Mickey made eye contact with Ian, encouraging him to watch as he bent forward and let a string of saliva drip from his lips, and onto the rosy head of Ian’s cock. “Mmm so fuckin’ big, sir. This right here is gonna split me open…” Mickey purred, massaging the spit from the tip to the base with a zealous grip. 

“Can’t  _ wait _ .” Ian pulled Mickey in by the back of his neck and kissed him roughly. The simple act of Mickey’s fingers wrapped around his cock was doing things to him that resonated at the very core of his being. It felt far too amazing, especially after denying himself Mickey’s touch since he’d arrived home. Ian slipped a hand under Mickey’s skirt and pushed the lacy panties to the side, drawing a line with one digit downward from the dimples above his ass, eventually slipping in between his cheeks. Unsurprisingly, Ian found that his finger slid easily into Mickey’s previously prepped hole. He used this fact to his advantage, hooking his finger and using it to pull Mickey forward, towards his saliva covered dick. 

“Surprised they didn’t send you with a plug filling up this slutty hole, just so you wouldn’t be tempted…” Ian moaned, nipping at Mickey’s bottom lip. He pushed a second finger in next to the first, enjoying the stretch it caused. Ian was pretty sure they had the house to themselves and that they wouldn’t be interrupted - yet the possibility of being walked in on added another level to his exhilaration.

Mickey keened at the welcome intrusion as Ian tugged at him. He tried to keep up with Ian’s lips and tongue as they practically mauled his mouth, bruising and sucking and refusing to let him catch his breath. When Ian finally released him for long enough that Mickey could take a few gulping breaths, Mickey used the bottom rungs of the kitchen chair to hoist himself up a few inches to hover over Ian’s cock. He looked down at his lover, drunk with the need to be used. “Can I ride you, sir?” His voice was wrecked, a hair away from tears. “Want you to fill my little  _ cunt _ up…  _ please _ .” 

Ian nodded enthusiastically as he pulled his fingers out of Mickey, precum pouring out of his tip at Mickey’s vulgar language. This type of play always got them so riled up, and Ian wasn’t about to deny his sub another minute. He ripped Mickey’s panties even further out of the way, smacking his husband’s bare ass hard enough to leave a welt. Ian then proceeded to drag him down, until just the head of his cock sank into Mickey’s hole. 

“Ride me like your fucking life depends on it,  _ slut _ .” Ian growled. He knew how far gone Mickey was, so that was exactly what he needed to hear to spur him into action. 

“Oh  _ fuck _ !” Mickey wailed, wasting no time in heeding his husband’s instructions. He slammed himself down onto Ian’s lap and let the hard cock slice into him like a fucking knife, exactly the way he loved. As usual, he felt completely impaled, and Mickey could practically see the bulge of his stomach as Ian’s cock took up the majority of his insides, leaving little room for anything else. Mickey didn’t like to take too long to adjust to the feeling of fullness, and so he braced himself against the back of the chair and used Ian’s shoulders for support. Mickey lifted himself up and plunged himself down, slowly for the few bounces, before picking up speed. He groaned like an animal, completely incoherent and wild, feeling the chair creak beneath them as he forced himself down over and over again. 

Ian was immediately overwhelmed, left speechless by Mickey’s ferocity as he picked up speed. There was no way he could intervene, not that he wanted to anyway. He was mesmerized, staring at the spot where they were connected, watching Mickey’s cock flopping up and down as he fucked himself with reckless abandon. 

“Shit,  _ shit _ .” Ian groaned. The sight alone was normally enough to hurry him along to a climax, and although he was nowhere near ready for things to be over when they had just begun, Ian was desperate for more. Reaching forward, he cradled Mickey’s cock in the palm of one hand, tugging on it slowly to give him some relief, before lifting his cock and balls up and out of the way so they would no longer hamper his view. Finally, Ian had a direct visual of his shaft disappearing inside of his husband - and each time it did, he moaned at the sight. 

_ He’s so hot it’s fucking unfair _ , Ian thought blearily, as he began to lift his hips slowly, meeting Mickey’s thrusts as much as he could manage from his seated position. The feeling of Mickey’s ass roughly slamming him back onto the chair was almost  _ heavenly _ .

“Feels so fucking  _ good _ !” Mickey’s voice shook as he rode Ian like an unbroken stallion, feeling his vision blur each time Ian bucked up into him - discovering new depths Mickey hardly knew he had. The pain and pleasure of it all made Mickey want to scream, but he could barely find his voice when a particularly sharp downward thrust left him violently impaled. He stayed as still as he could manage for a moment, the backs of his thighs resting heavily on the tops of Ian’s, and wriggled slightly - forcing himself to feel every inch of Ian buried deep in his tight hole. “Feels so good inside of me, sir. Stretching out my little  _ pussy _ …” Mickey growled, resting his forehead against Ian’s shoulder.

“Mmmm,  _ fuck _ . This cunt was  _ made _ for me.” Ian moaned, delivering another sharp smack to Mickey’s ass and fisting his hair, keeping him in place. Hooking his arm under Mickey’s ass, Ian stood from the chair abruptly, carrying his husband over to the kitchen counter setting him on the edge. Mickey was caught off guard by the change in location, but he knew that all he could do was play along and let Ian do his thing. 

Once in position, Ian pulled his cock out slowly,  _ torturously _ , panting against Mickey’s neck and digging his nails into Mickey’s hips in another attempt to stave off the beginning of the end. Just as Mickey was catching his breath, the man slammed all the way back into Mickey with enough force to pop Mickey’s eyes out of his fucking skull, fucking him good and hard against the countertop. 

Mickey gasped and yelped each time Ian’s cock drove into him, pummeling his prostate mercilessly. All he could bear to do was grasp onto Ian and hold on for dear life, murmuring “ _ so good _ ” and “ _ please”  _ whenever he managed to catch his breath. Ian was moving at lightning speed, thrusting into Mickey so violently that his heels managed to slip off of his feet, clattering to the floor without either of them truly noticing. 

Ian pressed his lips to Mickey’s pulse point, sensing his lover’s breath quicken as he did so. He kept his pace up as he snuck his tongue out of his mouth and smoothed it along the column of Mickey’s neck. “Tell me what you fuckin’ want...” Ian murmured, feeling his balls draw up and a familiar heat pool in his stomach. He nipped and sucked on the sensitive spot, knowing full well that what little remained resembling inhibition had entirely disappeared from Mickey’s mind.

“Y-your cum,  _ Daddy _ !” Mickey groaned, throwing his head back and giving Ian free reign to bruise and consume every inch of his skin - along his collar bone, across the tattoo that forever branded him as Ian’s. He couldn’t keep up the maid act anymore - he needed his Daddy now, and he knew Ian would be happy to oblige. 

“There’s my  _ goodboy _ .” Ian tugged on Mickey’s hair harshly, tilting his head backwards and biting his jaw. And, what was more, he was excited to know that he wasn’t the one that broke character first this time. It would be something to rib Mickey about after they were finished, for days to come. 

“You’ll get it,” Ian promised, heaving heavy breaths in between words. “But you know the rules. You gotta cum  _ with _ me, or you don’t get to cum for another hour.” It was one Ian’s new rules, and coincidently, his favorite to enforce. 

“Yes,  _ fuck... _ I can do it, I can cum,” Mickey babbled, low and depraved, eyes rolling back in his head each time his husband drove into him. He clung to Ian’s torso, slippery with sweat, feeling every inch of his body throb with need. “ _ Harder _ ! Please Daddy, fuckin’ break me!” 

Ian covered Mickey's loud and filthy mouth with his own, moaning as he fucked into him, just like he’d asked - hard, fast, unrestrained. He pinned Mickey’s hips to the counter, capturing the perfect angle for hitting Mickey’s prostate with every blow. It was rough as all hell, and borderline painful, but that’s just how they both needed it. Ian’s thrusts were so sharp, Mickey lost his breath every time they landed. He barely noticed the movements slowing down as they both approached the edge. “Gonna cum…” Mickey whined into the side of Ian’s neck.

“With…  _ me… _ ” Ian panted harshly, ramming Mickey into the counter as firmly as he could with each word. All at once, he felt his cum spilling into Mickey, his legs shaking like trees in a hurricane, and he fucked his load deep inside of his lover without so much as a pause. Ian could barely concentrate on the pleasure overloading his systems - too caught up by the way Mickey was clinging onto him. Glancing down at Mickey’s beautiful face, Ian could see tears welling up in his eyes as his muscles clenched around Ian’s cock, milking him for everything, just as his orgasm hit. 

Mickey’s entire frame trembled and shook through his orgasm crying out and clawing at Ian’s back and shoulders as his body went on autopilot. “ _ Daddy _ !” He yelped, whining as the feeling of being filled up with Ian’s seed triggered his own release. Mickey felt the wetness leaking down his cheeks as he painted the surface of his own stomach with his cum. 

Ian pulled Mickey even closer, hugging his arms around his husband and cradling him tightly through his overwhelming orgasm. “Hey… hey, I’m right here. Daddy’s got you...” Ian kissed at Mickey’s hairline and rubbed his back as the final quakes subsided, leaving his lover limp like a doll. “You we’re so good for me, Mick. So fucking good.” 

Mickey had collapsed against Ian without much prompting, riding through the intense waves and allowing himself to be comforted. By the end, he could barely hear Ian’s words due to the blood rushing between his ears, but it didn’t matter. The soothing cadence of his husband's words were enough to rock him to sleep, after such a satisfying yet exhausting experience. Before either man had time to realize, Mickey was out cold.

“So good, baby. Love you so much.” Ian drew soothing patterns on Mickey’s back, knowing exactly how to relax his husband. Their sex was typically rough, but the aftercare was tender - and Ian knew Mickey needed it. 

When Mickey didn’t pull away from his chest after a few minutes, Ian got started on their usual routine. He picked Mickey’s hand up from the counter, kissing over each tattooed letter on his knuckles, lingering for a moment on the ring finger, pressing his lips to the gold band. Once he had given that hand enough attention, Ian shifted backward to wipe away the tear trails that no doubt stained Mickey’s cheeks. Thankfully, Ian didn’t lean too far away from his husband, because the man would have landed face first on the kitchen floor had Ian not noticed he was completely asleep, lost in the reverie of having been fucked unconscious. Ian even paused to check if he was still breathing, feeling a bit relieved at seeing the rise and fall of Mickey’s chest - glad to have not murdered his husband in such a legendary way. 

With that out of the way, Ian wiped Mickey’s face dry with a nearby napkin and planted kisses on his puffy cheeks, seeing the pout of his lips turn up into a semi-smile in his sleep. 

“Let’s get you to bed, babyface.” Ian whispered, keen on getting Mickey upstairs in case anyone should come home. Hefting his husband from the counter, Ian hoped he could stay inside of Mickey for long enough to carry him to their room, in order to prevent a mess. It was a mildly awkward job to get them both up the stairs, with Mickey wrapped around him, and Ian bumped his knees and elbows against the narrow staircase several times in the process. 

Miraculously, Ian somehow made it into their room without any major incidents. He shut the accordion door behind them and laid Mickey down on their bed as gently as he could manage, only then disconnecting their bodies. Ian chuckled at the whining sound Mickey made, before curling onto his side and losing consciousness again. 

Patiently, Ian sat on the bed next to Mickey, tenderly removing the maid costume bit by bit. He realized he left the heels down on the kitchen floor, and reminded himself to retrieve them before a sibling found them. The last thing they both needed was to be confronted by more questions about their  _ colorful  _ love life. Ian removed the stockings and the panties, manipulating Mickey’s body like a rag doll, until he managed to pull the dress off and discard it as well. After, Ian had pulled out the wet wipes and he made sure his husband was completely clean before even thinking about himself. Ian yawned and stripped down to his boxers, and he left the room only briefly to brush his teeth and take his nighttime medication. 

On his way back over to their bed, Ian cursed as he tripped over the corner of a box sticking out from under the bed, one he had not noticed earlier given that he had been thoroughly occupied. 

His eyes widened as he inspected the contents - breast pumps. Fucking  _ breast pumps _ . 

Ian glanced between the box and Mickey’s clearly  _ enhanced  _ pecs, the swelling of which was already starting to come down. Wordlessly, he set the device back in the box and tucked it back under the bed with the rest of their sex toys, resolving to bring it up to Mickey in the morning. 

_ We’re definitely using those again _ , Ian thought as he removed his boxers and crawled into bed behind his husband. wrapping his arm around Mickey’s body. Ian closed his eyes as his hand gravitated towards his lover’s chest, cupping one pec in the palm of his hand, and tucking his face into the back of Mickey’s neck with a smile. Now  _ there  _ was a pair of tits Ian could get used to. 

Below them, Ian could still hear the churning of their ancient washer. He resolved to switch the load over to the dryer in the morning, if someone else had not done it by then. That was a problem for tomorrow. For now, Ian reached out to turn off the lamp on their bedside table, plunging the room into darkness and allowing Mickey’s steady breathing to rock him to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are appreciated!


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